


History Doesn't Repeat (But Sometimes it Rhymes)

by LibraryMage



Series: Break Your Chains [36]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Ezra Bridger, Child Abandonment, Ezra begins his journey into accidental parenthood (like his father before him), Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, autistic Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 14:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: Forced to make an emergency landing on a sparsely populated planet, Ezra meets a Force sensitive child in an all-too-familiar situation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: child abandonment; references to child abuse; references to child abduction and death; abuse victim's fears of becoming like their abuser

“Hera’s going to kill me,” Ezra muttered as he surveyed the damage to the _Phantom_.

He could repair the stabilizer easily enough, but it would take time.  Time in which he wouldn’t be able to contact the _Ghost_ , letting the rest of his family wonder what had happened and when, or _if_ , he was coming back.

As he worked on repairing the damage to the ship, the sun beat down on him, and within minutes, he was wiping sweat away from his forehead before it could fall into his eyes.  He would have cursed himself for picking such an exposed spot to land if there had been any shade he could have found cover in in the first place.  Outside of the small settlements scattered across the planet, Jakku was a barren desert.  One that reminded Ezra a little too much of Tatooine.

Ezra was nearly done with the repairs when he felt what could only be described as a sharp tug through the Force, followed by the familiar bitter sting of fear.  He looked up and glanced behind him, searching for the source of the feeling, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary.  Slowly, he stood up and took a step forward.  _Something_ wasn’t right, even if it was something not in his field of vision.

The answer came in the form of a blur of movement from around a corner.  A small figure, just a little kid, was running full speed, directly toward Ezra.  The kid was looking back over her shoulder and slammed right into him before he could get out of her way.  Ezra caught her as she started to fall.

“You okay?” he asked.  The girl wrenched herself out of his grip and looked back over her shoulder.  Ezra followed her gaze, his sense for danger prickling at the back of his mind just before two grown men rounded the corner the girl had come from.

“Get behind me,” he said.

The girl obeyed, but as the men drew closer, Ezra could feel her anxiety growing, her instinct to run threatening to take over.

“It’ll be okay,” Ezra said.  “I’ve got this.”

“There she is!” one of the men said, spotting the girl hiding behind Ezra.

“That’s close enough,” Ezra said as they approached.  He shifted his stance just slightly, planting his feet and getting ready to fight if he had to.

“That girl’s a thief,” the man who’d already spoken said.

“Are you saying you were robbed by a little kid?” Ezra asked.  He could sense the burning feeling of the man’s growing embarrassment as he said it.

Ezra carefully reached out through the Force, gently nudging at both of their minds as he spoke again.

“You must be mistaken,” he said.

“It’s a mistake,” one of the men said.

The other man looked at him, confused by his sudden backing down.  Ezra narrowed his eyes as he gave another mental push, more intense than the last one.

“You’ve never seen this girl before,” he said.

The more hesitant man’s eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before he nodded.

“I’ve never seen her before,” he said.  “You were right, it’s a mistake.”

As the two men walked away, Ezra watched them until they were far enough away that he could reasonably consider them gone.  He turned back to the girl, who was now staring up at him, her eyes wide with awe.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

“I didn’t do anything,” Ezra said.  “Just convinced them they were wrong.”

The girl shook her head.  “You did something,” she insisted.  “I -- I felt it.”

“What do you mean you felt it?” Ezra asked, though something in the back of his mind told him he already knew the answer.  Someone didn’t _have_ to be Force sensitive for him to sense their feelings or the fact that they were in danger, but the intensity with which he’d felt this girl’s distress told him it hadn't just been him sensing it.  She’d been projecting it, likely not even realizing she was doing so.

“You --” the girl paused as she struggled to find the right words to describe it.  “You pushed something in their heads.”

Ezra had been afraid she would say that.  Not only had she felt what he’d done, but she’d understood it, at least on some level, even if she didn’t know exactly what it was.  If he was right, then she could be in danger.

“You have a name, kid?” Ezra asked.

The girl regarded him suspiciously for a moment, her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him.  Ezra didn’t even need to try to feel her thinking, trying to determine whether she should trust him with that information.

“Rey,” she said.

“Ezra.”

“Are you going to tell me what you did to them?” Rey asked, crossing her arms and drawing herself up to a posture that might have been intimidating on someone about a decade older than her.

Ezra lowered himself to the ground and sat down, putting himself at Rey’s eye level.  She backed down, apparently understanding that he _was_ about to answer her question.

“Rey,” Ezra said, “do you know what a Jedi is?”

Rey’s eyes went wide as she nodded.

“Are you --”

“Yeah,” Ezra said.  “That thing you felt me do to the men who were chasing you, that’s something Jedi can do.”

Rey bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, her hands flapping with excitement.  The gesture just drove home the fact that she was such a little kid, ecstatic about the idea that she’d just met a Jedi.

“What are you doing on Jakku?” she asked.

“It wasn’t really my choice,” Ezra said.  “I needed to make some repairs to my ship.”

Rey glanced at the _Phantom_ , peering into the open maintenance hatch beside her.

“Do you need help?” she asked.  “I can fix things.”

Underneath the offer, Ezra could sense the soft buzz of nervousness.  Her eyes darted around quickly and he understood.  She was afraid to walk away and get into trouble again.

“Sure,” Ezra said, shifting where he sat so he was facing the hatch.  “Hand me that hydrospanner.”

Rey sat down beside him and handed him the tool.  Ezra could feel her eyes on him, watching him intently as he worked.  He was actually glad she wanted to stick around.  She might be a kid, but this was a conversation that had to happen.

“So,” Ezra said, keeping his voice gentle as he approached what he knew all too well could be a difficult subject, “where are your parents?”

Rey was quiet for a moment before speaking in a low, barely-audible mumble.

“I don’t know,” she said.  “They’re gone.”

Ezra wasn’t sure if the sharp, stinging feeling he felt in his chest was her pain or a distant echo of his own.  It had been over three decades since he’d lost his own parents, but some reminders hurt more than others, and Rey seemed so close to the age he’d been; maybe even younger.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Seven,” Rey said.

“And there’s no one taking care of you?”

“Why are you asking?” Rey shot back, her voice suddenly guarded.

Ezra set down the tool he was holding and turned to face Rey again.

“There’s something you need to know,” he said, “something your parents would’ve needed to know if they were here.”

Rey crossed her arms again as she waited for him to continue, that suspicious look returning to her eyes.

“Jedi can sense people’s feelings,” he said, choosing his words carefully.  He’d never imagined he’d have to have this conversation with anyone, at least not on his own.  “Before you ran into me, before I even _saw_ you, I could sense how scared you were.”

“I wasn’t _that_ scared,” Rey muttered, a little indignantly.

“But you were scared,” Ezra said.  “I could tell.  And I could tell you were in danger.  And I could feel it more strongly than I can feel most people’s emotions.  That happens when -- a Jedi can sense someone’s feelings more intensely when the other person is Force sensitive.”

“What’s Force sensitive?” Rey asked, her arms uncrossing and her hands dropping back to her lap.

“The Force is where a Jedi’s power comes from,” Ezra said.  “Being Force sensitive means you can tap into it.  It means you have the potential to become a Jedi.”

Rey tilted her head to one side curiously, asking him a silent question.

“I think _you’re_ Force sensitive,” Ezra said, making sure he drove home the point.

“But I can't do anything like what you did,” Rey said.

“Most kids your age can’t,” Ezra said.  “Not until you’re taught how.”

Rey said nothing and Ezra took a breath before speaking again, plunging right into the topic, not knowing how to move around it carefully.

“Rey, if you’re on your own out here, and you’re Force sensitive, you’re not safe,” he said.  “If you want to leave this place, I can take you somewhere safer.”

“No,” Rey said, shaking her head quickly.  “I can’t leave.  I promised.”

“Promised who?” Ezra asked.

“My family,” Rey said.  “They told me to stay here and wait for them to come back.”

“How long ago was that?” Ezra asked, knowing perfectly well it had been a long time.

“Two years,” Rey muttered.

The words sent a bitter stinging feeling through Ezra’s mind, like antiseptic poured onto an open wound.  He knew that no one who left their kid on her own for two years was coming back, but he didn’t want to _say_ that to her.

But Ezra knew he couldn’t just leave her behind.  For two years now, Force sensitive kids had been disappearing, some turning up dead, some never turning up at all.  A little girl alone on a sparsely-populated planet like Jakku with no one looking out for her would be the perfect target for whoever was doing it.

“If you want to leave this place and come with me, someone can teach you,” Ezra said.  He felt something deep in his chest freeze.  He hated the thought of holding the promise of training, of _power_ , over her head as leverage.  He hated how much it made him sound like -- _no_.  This wasn’t the same.  It  _wasn't_.

“You mean teach me how to do stuff like Jedi can?” Rey asked.

“Yeah,” Ezra said.  “That’s what I mean.”

Rey looked down at the ground, tracing one finger in a twisting, spiraling pattern in the sand.  Ezra could sense the conflict in her mind, twisting around like the pattern she drew on the ground.  She was tempted, he could tell, but she’d been told to stay here, and she didn’t want to break the promise she’d made to whoever had left her.

“What if we came back?” Ezra asked, barely thinking the idea through and saying it the moment it sparked in his mind.  “We could find out if anyone came looking for you.”

“Why should I trust you?” Rey asked.

Ezra froze up as he realized he didn’t have an answer to give her.  In her position, at her age, he would’ve asked the exact same question.  The memory floated to the surface of Maul catching hold of his arm as he tried to leave the alley he was cornered in, of the words Maul had used to draw him in.  _You’ll be safer with me than you would be alone on the streets._

It was almost exactly what he’d said to Rey just moments ago.  Maybe she was right not to trust him.  Maybe he shouldn’t even be trusting himself.

But his doubts and his fears of becoming like Maul didn’t change the fact that Rey was alone, and she wasn’t safe.

“When I was your age, I was on my own, too,” Ezra said.  “I remember what that was like; how scared I was and how I wanted to be able to count on someone.”

Rey squirmed a little where she sat.  Ezra could tell she wanted to trust him.  He didn’t even need the Force to sense it.  He remembered painfully well that desperate wish to trust anyone who was even a little kind to him, and the hard-learned knowledge that that was almost always a bad idea.

Rey looked back over her shoulder, staring out across the small settlement, the gears turning in her head.  After a moment, she turned her gaze back to Ezra.

“Okay,” she said quietly, “I’ll go with you.  But only if we come back like you said.  My family’s coming back for me.  I _know_ they are.”

“I promise we’ll come back,” Ezra said.  It was a promise he meant to keep, unlike the one her family had made to her.

“Then I’ll go,” Rey said.

Ezra gave her an encouraging smile.

“We can leave as soon as I finish fixing this stabilizer,” Ezra said.

* * *

 

Rey looked around, her eyes wide, taking in everything, as she stepped onto the _Ghost_.  She jumped slightly at the sound of approaching footsteps and stepped behind Ezra as Sabine appeared.

“Where _were_ you?” she asked.  “You were due back hours ago.”

“Stabilizer got knocked out,” Ezra said.  “I was supposed to stay on comm silence, remember?”

“Looks like you picked up something extra,” Sabine said.  Ezra looked down to see Rey hiding behind him, peeking out from behind his leg.

“Right,” Ezra said.  “This is Rey.  Rey, this is Sabine.  She’s a friend of mine.”

Sabine crouched down, putting herself at Rey’s eye level, and waved at the girl, who stared for a second before slowly raising a hand and waving back.

“I like your hair,” Rey said, her voice so quiet Ezra could hardly hear her, even standing right next to her.

“Can you speak up?” Sabine asked gently.  “I don’t hear so good.”

“I said I like your hair,” Rey said quickly, ducking her head as she spoke.  It was such a dramatic shift from how she’d acted on Jakku.  She suddenly seemed so shy and nervous.

“Thanks,” Sabine said, tugging a lock of her hair, which was currently bright red with white-gold stripes running through it.  When she’d dyed it, Hera had said it looked like her head was on fire.

As Sabine straightened up, she shot Ezra a wide grin.

“You know Kanan’s going to say he told you so,” she said.

“He won't say that,” Ezra said, rolling his eyes.  “He’ll think it, though.”

“Who’s Kanan?” Rey asked.

“He’s…kind of my dad,” Ezra said.  “And I think he’ll really like meeting you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: references to child abuse; abuse victim fearing becoming like their abuser

Rey was settling in much better than Ezra had thought she would.  After just a week on the _Ghost_ , she seemed to have moved past most of the initial shyness, especially once she realized no one was going to get angry with her for not speaking up or taking too long to say something.  She’d taken to the others, and was now even temporarily sharing a cabin with Sabine.  She hadn't met Zeb, who was still on Lirasan, yet, but Ezra wasn’t particularly worried about how that would turn out.

What Ezra _was_ worried about was what would happen next.  He’d sworn over and over that he would never train an apprentice, that he wouldn’t risk passing on anything he’d learned from Maul, that he wouldn’t take the chance of _becoming_ Maul.  But at the very least he had to admit to himself that he’d become attached to Rey quickly, and she’d clearly become attached to him and the rest of his family.  Ezra knew exactly what it felt like to be abandoned, and he didn’t want to inflict that feeling on someone else, even if she would eventually get used to whoever else Ezra could find to teach her.

The obvious solution was Luke.  He’d already proven he could teach other Jedi, and Ezra was sure he wouldn’t have a problem teaching Rey.  But some deep instinct told Ezra that wasn’t the answer.  He didn’t understand it, but he _knew_ Rey shouldn’t be there; not now.

But even if Luke wasn’t the right teacher for Rey, Ezra knew he wasn’t, either.  He _couldn’t_ be.  He might be a Jedi now, a _real_ Jedi, but he would always be marked by the dark side.  He couldn’t teach Rey.  It wouldn’t be fair to her.  And the Force aside, Ezra didn’t think he was equipped to take care of a child.  He didn’t live on the _Ghost_ full-time anymore, but he didn’t exactly live _anywhere_ full-time.  Staying on the _Gauntlet_ and wandering the galaxy was fine when it was just him, but Rey deserved something more stable.

It was those worries that had brought Ezra to the common room late at night, after Rey had already gone to bed, sitting across from Kanan, wishing he could just outright ask his old master to tell him what to do.

“Sometimes it’s not about the best teacher,” Kanan was saying.  “Sometimes the right teacher is what’s more important.”

“But I _can't_ be the right teacher for her,” Ezra said.  “I can't.  It’s not -- it isn’t possible.  I’m too…”

His voice trailed off as he realized he didn’t even know what to say.  He was too what?  Dangerous?  Damaged?  Scared?

“Do you _want_ to teach her?” Kanan asked.

“Yes,” Ezra said, surprised at how readily he answered the question.  “But I…what if I hurt her?”

“Are you planning to?”

“No,” Ezra said.  “Of course not.”

“And if you ever did by accident, would you apologize and make up for it and do your best to make sure it didn’t happen again?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re already better than Maul was,” Kanan said.

“That’s not exactly an accomplishment,” Ezra muttered, his voice bitter.  Being better to Rey than Maul had been to him wasn’t something that he deserved any credit for.  He knew he’d have to actually _try_ to hurt Rey like that.

“Maybe not,” Kanan said, “but growing up with him doesn’t mean you have to be like him.”

“I know,” Ezra said, a slight tremor in his voice, “but…Kanan, I’m scared.  She’s alone without anyone to look out for her, just like I was, and then I showed up and got her to come with me by promising to teach her, just like he did with me.”

“You aren’t Maul, Ezra,” Kanan said.  “I’ve known you for more than twenty years now, and you’re not like him.  You’re a good person and you would never hurt a child like he hurt you.”

“What if I change?” Ezra asked, his voice quiet.  “What if teaching Rey brings out…something?”

“You’ve helped Luke with his students,” Kanan pointed out.  “That didn’t change you.”

“That’s different,” Ezra said.  “I wasn’t responsible for them.”

“Ezra,” Kanan said, “I can't tell you what to do.  This decision is too important for someone else to make it for you.  But I _can_ tell you that you’ll be a great teacher, and that you probably understand Rey better than anyone else could.”

Ezra fidgeted nervously where he sat.  He wanted to believe Kanan.  For once in his life, he wanted a decision to be simple, without the specter of his past hanging over him, making him question his motivations for everything he did.  But of course the decision about whether or not to take in and teach a Force sensitive child wouldn’t be a simple one.  It wouldn’t have been simple even if Ezra _didn’t_ have his history with Maul haunting his mind.

“I want to be able to teach her as well as you taught me,” Ezra said.  “But I’m afraid of what will happen if it turns out I’m not ready.”

“I was afraid of the same thing,” Kanan said.  “I thought that you’d already been hurt so much and I was just going to make things worse.  Every Jedi wonders if they’re really good enough for their padawan.  At least, the good ones do.”

Ezra knew what he wanted his choice to be, but part of him hoped that Kanan would abruptly change his stance and tell him that he had no right to make this decision, that Rey would be better off without him, that he was too dangerous to be allowed to take care of a child.  But he knew that wouldn’t happen.  And Kanan was right.  Ezra had to be the one to make the decision.  No one else could do it for him.  And as afraid as he was, he knew which choice was the right one.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Ezra,” Kanan said, as if he knew that Ezra had already made his choice, even if he hadn't let himself say it and had barely let himself _think_ it yet.  “She’s your student, but you’re mine, and I’ll always be there to help you when you need me.”

“Thank you, Master,” Ezra said with a small smile as he said the title he barely used for Kanan anymore.  “Or Dad.  Whichever you are right now.”

His smile faded as the weight of the decision he’d just made settled on him.

“I’ll talk to her in the morning,” Ezra said.  “Make sure she knows I’m not just going to hand her off to someone else.”

“Good,” Kanan said with an approving nod.  “You’re a good kid, Ezra.”

“Dad, I’m forty,” Ezra said, rolling his eyes, wanting the effect of it even if Kanan couldn’t see it.

“You sure?” Kanan asked.  “I’m pretty sure you were twelve yesterday.”

“You didn’t even know me when I was twelve,” Ezra said.

Kanan leaned across the table, resting his hand on Ezra’s arm and giving it a brief, reassuring squeeze.

“I mean it,” Kanan said.  “You’re a good kid, a good Jedi, and you’ll be a great teacher.”

 _And a great parent._   Ezra could practically hear the thought that Kanan wisely chose not to voice.  Even though it hadn't been said out loud, Ezra couldn’t help but internally flinch at the idea.  Teacher, he could do.  Parent…well, that might be inevitable, considering how young Rey was.  He might have to get used to that idea eventually.

Ezra smiled, pushing his worries about that to the side for now before he spoke.

“I learned from the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's wondering, in the timeline I worked out for this AU, Luke's Jedi academy hasn't been attacked yet, but it will be just a few weeks after this chapter (I've taken some liberties with the canon timeline).
> 
> Anyway, this is the end of the series. It's been almost a year and a half since I posted the first chapter of the first fic, and when I started, I had no idea that it would get this long or that I would be diving this deep into it. I've really loved writing this, and thanks to everyone who's been following this story. :)


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